


Like You Mean It

by xenous



Category: Take That (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Angst, Cheating, Drunk Sex, Fist Fights, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 06:45:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17555369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenous/pseuds/xenous
Summary: The kind of smut that can only come from drunken anger.





	Like You Mean It

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a short drabble thing that popped into my head the other day. Set sometime around Progress era despite Mark and Robbie being drunk.

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you right back!"

Robbie turned away from the door. "What did you say to me?"

Mark was almost in hysterical tears by this point, but pressed on anyway. "Fuck you!"

Robbie stumbled over to the hotel room bed and backhanded his best friend, falling backward when Mark's fist connected with his jaw. Mark's eyes widened, and he let out a small cry when Robbie threw himself onto the bed. 

There was a moment of punching and kicking, hair pulling and biting, yelling and cursing...until finally Mark was staring into Robbie's eyes, head firmly in place due to the handful of his sandy brown hair clutched tightly in his lover's hand.

"Fuck you." Mark muttered, before pulling Robbie toward him and pressing their lips together.

Then Robbie was on top of him again, pulling off Mark's shirt and then his own. Next came belts...jeans...

Until finally they were there...naked and vulnerable before the other. Robbie's lip split and Mark with a bruise on the side of his face. Bitten fingernails dug into shoulders. "Hard. Just...fuck me like you mean it."

And he did. Cursing, swearing, moaning, blood rising to the surface of flesh shining with perspiration, soaked hair in lust-filled eyes, hard thrusts nearly to the point of tearing, an almost articulated plea of 'stop' swallowed as soon as his back arched.

A yell, cut off by a hand being forced against Mark's mouth. Loud curses before Robbie bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut.

Robbie lay on his back after, smoking a cigarette. Mark lay on his side, ignoring the situation and his best friend. Until Robbie's hand caught his and Mark rolled onto his back. 

A cigarette slipped between two fingers, moving to bruised lips.

Robbie's fingers traced the tattoo on Mark's hip before intertwining their hands.

And that was good enough.

They could wait until tomorrow to think about their wives, their families, the band, but for tonight they could regress to old habits and forget about the consequences.


End file.
